


Nowhere, Beautiful Nowhere

by The_Winter_Straw



Series: Free Fic Raffle Prizes [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fuzzy Timeline, Romance, SHIELD agent original character, Slow Burn, oblivious to love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:54:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23521888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Winter_Straw/pseuds/The_Winter_Straw
Summary: There's always a silver lining, even in the middle of nowhere.
Relationships: Phil Coulson/Original Character
Series: Free Fic Raffle Prizes [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1687426
Kudos: 5





	Nowhere, Beautiful Nowhere

**Author's Note:**

> Part two of the one shots from my one shot "raffle" over on Quotev, and the first one featuring an OC. This creator has been a really kind reviewer of mine for years, so I was glad to be able to work with Kate for a bit! It's a little iffy, I think, because I am not a big fan of _Agents of SHIELD_. I stopped watching it pretty quick after Ghost Rider got introduced because I didn't want to watch _another_ season dedicated to Daisy being the most important person in the entire galaxy. So! I am not as familiar with the source material as I could be. Still, I did my best. 
> 
> **Winner June 2019:** Shakespeare girl/Shakespearegirl  
>  **Requirements:** Phil Coulson/Kate Kane (OC); confession during night shift/while trapped in an elevator/ **at a safe house**

Darkness pressed against the windows of a little house—more like a wooden shack—in the middle of the New Mexican wilderness. For miles and miles, there was nothing _but_ darkness, which surged across the flat earth as though that house were a magnet. A mess of stars and a sliver of moon shed the only slim light available. They did nothing to aid the dark-haired woman sitting atop a tiny bed inside. She had a lit candle on the old bedside table, but still could not make out the words on the thin sheet of paper in her hand. 

“You’re apt to go blind if you keep squinting like that.” 

Kate Kane jumped at the sound of someone speaking in such close proximity to her. Her blue eyes were wild as they cast about for the source of the voice. As soon as she spotted the familiar man standing by the doorway, she relaxed. She always relaxed when she spotted Phil Coulson. 

“Did I scare you?” he asked. “Sorry. Next time I’ll knock.” 

Her voice stuck in her throat as he stepped into the bedroom and the dim candlelight inside. He looked the same as always: pale face clear of any lines, short hair professionally parted, wide mouth pressed into a mild smile. Handsome. Completely put together. Even with his jacket and tie removed, he looked like the SHIELD agent he was. After the day she had had, Kate looked anything but. Her hair was out of its usual neat style and instead in a hastily arranged braid down her back, _and_ she’d already changed into her sleepwear. 

“Kate? Are you all right? I didn’t break you, did I?” 

Too late she realized she hadn’t said a word since he entered the room. Only after several awkward seconds of effort did she manage to force out a laugh. 

“No, no, of course not.” Relief at sounding relatively normal left her feeling a little lightheaded. “You startled me, that’s all. You don’t have to knock. I should have known it was only you.” 

“You can’t make that assumption. What if I was one of the bad guys?” 

“The bad guys can’t get in. Isn’t that the point of you being my bodyguard?” 

“I appreciate your confidence in my abilities. Next time, though, I’d prefer it if I took an ICEr to the face.” 

“I’ll see what I can do,” Kate said weakly. _She_ knew she wouldn’t be able to hurt Phil on purpose, but _he_ didn’t need to. Already he had gone out of his way to set up this safe house for her and to stick around to keep her safe within it. Giving him anxiety over whether or not she could keep her wits about her for the duration of their stay would be poor repayment for his generosity. 

He considered her quietly for a minute or so. Kate found it difficult to look him in the eye. Could he see her reluctance to pull a weapon on him there? Had she disappointed him so soon? 

Then Phil sat down next to her and held out a chipped yellow mug. “Here.” 

She took it without thinking. “What’s this?” 

“Tea,” he answered. “Chamomile. I thought you could use some calming after everything that’s happened. You need to sleep.” 

“So do you.” 

“I intend to.” After holding up his own equally cracked mug, he downed several mouthfuls of the tea. Kate followed suit. She felt better the minute the warm liquid touched her mouth, downing the entire cup in one go. Phil held out his empty hand for the mug. 

“Thank you,” she said as she returned it. “How did you make tea if we don’t have any electricity?” 

“I know my way around a fire and how to use a well. Sorry,” he added with another smile, “there’s no secret generator. We really are completely off the grid.” 

“Damn.” 

“Look on the bright side. There’s nothing to distract you from getting a good night’s sleep. I like your pajamas, by the way.” 

Kate felt herself flush. Of all the clothes she owned, _these_ were the ones she had never wanted Phil to see her in—and yet, she was not surprised that he liked this particular outfit. They were designed to look like Captain America’s uniform, hood and all. She’d bought the clothes on whim because they reminded her of Phil. Of course, she could not _tell_ him this. What would he think about her pajamas then? 

“Jemma packed them,” she explained in rush. 

Phil’s brow furrowed gently. “So they’re Simmons’ pajamas?” 

“No. No, they’re mine. I just don’t know why she picked _these_. I mean, I have other things to sleep in.” 

“Probably grabbed the first thing she could find. Was that letter you’ve got inside with the things she brought you as well?” 

“Oh.” Kate looked down at the slip of paper now lying on the bed’s decrepit comforter. She had almost forgotten about her attempts to decipher the scrawling, loopy “doctor handwriting” that covered the page. Phil’s appearance tended to distract her like that. “I _think_ so.” 

Without batting an eye, he plucked it up and shoved it into one of his back pockets. 

“What are you—” 

“No communication means no communication,” he interrupted. “Simmons should have known better than to leave this for you. Besides, if I leave this here, how do I know you won’t stay up all night trying to read it?” 

She opened her mouth, but could think of no answer she believed would convince him. That was _exactly_ what she would do, and he knew it. 

“That’s what I thought. Goodnight, Kate.” 

With that, he got up and turned to leave the room. Kate eyed the paper waving at her from his pocket with suspicion, until something far more important than whatever Jemma had wanted to tell her occurred to her: 

“Wait. There’s only one bed! Will you be…” The question was too embarrassing to finish. 

Luckily Phil caught onto her pointed look at the single pillow at the other end of the mattress. He chuckled. 

“No. There’s also a perfectly good couch in the living room that I think hasn't seen a warm body in at least five years. Sleep tight.” 

Maybe it was the tea, but Kate surprised herself by following his instructions. She expected her journey to dreams to be full of the shadows that chased her, if to dreams she ever got at all. Instead, sleep quickly stifled all her thoughts but one: Phil had complimented her pajamas. A smile graced her lips as she closed her eyes against the darkness. 

******

The safe house’s atmosphere did not improve much in the daylight. All that really changed was the view outside its dusty windows: dirt, shrub grass, yellowed bushes, and low mesas, with only the occasional squat cactus to break up the monotony of brown. It didn’t take more than a couple of days for Kate to finish reading the material left there by the home’s previous occupants, nor to fill up the several empty notebooks Jemma had tossed in alongside Kate’s toothbrush. Deprived of her usual pursuits that required electricity, she found herself looking out the window at that depressing view much more often than she liked. 

Once she had decided to _do_ something about her boredom and go out into that depressing landscape, Kate realized that escaping _into_ it was perhaps not her greatest idea. It was hotter than hell _inside_ the safe house; outside was like stepping on the sun. After a mere fifteen minutes of work, she already had sweat dripping down her face and neck. The droplets made it difficult for her to see the baked earth she was attempting to dig up. 

“Mind if I ask what you’re doing out here?” 

Kate didn’t jump that time. Her hand found the ICEr sitting next to her basket of vegetables pieces and hefted it right up at the person who had approached her. Phil did not flinch as he casually pushed its muzzle away from his chest. 

“You’re getting better,” he remarked. 

“I’ll be an expert by the time we leave,” Kate said, putting the ICEr down. 

“I wouldn’t be surprised.” 

“Do you really think we’ll be stuck here _that_ long?” 

Phil looked politely puzzled. “What do you mean?” 

“If you think that I’m going to be well-experienced in…in…in that.” She gestured at the thing. 

“Kate, you’re the lead SHIELD liaison for the weapon’s department.” 

“It’s not the _firing_ that I’m concerned with. It’s learning to shoot first and ask questions later.” 

“That’s not what I meant. Really,” he said, as he crouched down next to her. 

“Not sure what else you could mean.” She carefully avoided his eyes by digging another little hole in the warm dirt. “The only way we’re getting out of here is if I learn constant vigilance.” 

“The only way we’re getting out of here is when they catch the people after you. Which they will. What I meant was that I have faith in your ability to stay alive until then. Would it really be so bad, though?” 

Kate chanced a glance at him. _She_ of course was already sweating through the summer blouse and pants that Jemma had packed for her. Not a drop appeared on Phil. She envied his ability to stay so cool. 

“Would what be so bad?” she asked. 

“Being locked up with each other like this. I can’t speak for the both of us, but I’ve come to enjoy having you to myself. You’re good company.” 

Every single one of her immensely capable brain cells froze. 

“Kate? …Kate? Are you all right?” 

Though it took a good deal of work, Kate managed to kick herself back into gear. First the mouth, forced into a smile. Then the voice, forced into a laugh. Finally one arm, forced across her slick forehead in an attempt to look unflustered. 

“I quite enjoy your company myself. However, I _do_ miss things like electricity and running water—and being able to access the internet.” 

“I suppose this is something of a Luddite existence we’re leading out here. Gives us a lot of time to get to know one another.” 

That was exactly what Kate was afraid of. If she died, she died, and while that would be sad, she still thought it preferable to Phil “getting to know” her. As work colleagues, it was easy enough for her to admire him from afar. As bodyguard and protectee, there was far too much danger that he would _notice_ her admiration. First the compliment on her pajamas, now on her conversational abilities. She was sure she must have looked like a blushing, love-struck teenager…or would have, if it wasn’t scorching enough outside to make her face red to begin with. 

“I’d at least like a book,” she said. “Something new to read. Jemma’s letter would do.” 

Phil smiled again. “You can have it back when this is all over. A communications blackout means _all_ communications.” 

“Right.” The same answer as every other time she’d suggested he hand that paper over. Kate didn’t know why she had bothered. 

Then he was closer than before, kneeling right next to her in the dirt, with more heat than ever radiating from his body. “But you’re right. It can get pretty boring. Would you mind if I helped you with your gardening?” 

“How did you know?” 

“You’ve been stealing all the dinner scraps for a week.” 

“I just thought, if we were stuck out here until the food supply runs out—” 

“We won’t be.” 

“—that we should try to have a backup source. That, and gardening would give me something to do,” she finished. Kate’s defiance lasted only a few seconds in the face of his appraising look. “Is that…foolish?” 

“Not foolish at all. I think it’s smart. Here, let me start with the potatoes.” 

She watched in awe as he rolled his pristine sleeves right up to his elbows and dived into the work. For a few minutes, all she could do was watch him. The heat quickly brought her back to herself, thank goodness, and Kate snatched up some carrot tops to busy herself with. Having all this time to get to know Phil was starting to feel more dangerous than the people out to get her. 

******

Days passed. Nights, too. With no method of timekeeping outside of that, Kate fell into a rhythm readily enough. She was able to sleep most nights. Working in the garden helped tire her out. The nightmares about shadowy men demanding to know the whereabouts of her one-time colleague nearly stopped completely. If one could be comfortable living in the middle of nowhere to avoid torture and possible death, then she was comfortable. Until the night that someone came creeping into her room, that was. 

The absolute silence that surrounded the building made every little nightly noise sound that much louder. A foot slid against the wood floor just outside her door, and Kate reached out at once for the ICEr beside her head—only to have a hand that belonged to someone else press hers right back down. 

“Shhhh,” came a voice from above her. Blinking to get her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, she saw Phil standing beside the bed. _His_ eyes were not on her. Rather, they were on the pitch black hallway he had just left. Kate shifted to get a better look down it herself. 

“Is someone here?” she whispered. 

“It’s possible. I heard something moving outside.” 

They both held very still. Kate stared so hard at the darkness in front of her that her eyes began to water. Nothing inside the home moved. She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until— 

_Snap!_

She couldn’t help the little gasp that escaped her throat at the sound that came from outside, though she wished she could have. The look Phil shot her was pitying at best. The noise stopped again, then started, then stopped and started once more. It just went on and off, a faint rustling just on the other side of the wall. 

Five minutes could have passed with Phil and Kate frozen side by side like that, or maybe an hour. Whoever was out there seemed to be taking their sweet time with breaking in. Finally, Phil removed his hand from the top of hers—she had forgotten it was still there until she felt suddenly cold—and moved away from her with a hushed but firm, “stay right there.” 

Kate kicked off her sheets and was after him before he got to the door. Phil frowned. 

“Kate,” he began, but she remembered his pity and cut him off: 

“If they jump you out there, they’ll get me just as easily inside. I’m coming, too.” 

His answer was immediate: “Grab your ICEr.” 

Despite the tenuous situation, she felt a small bubble of joy in her chest as she did as instructed. Maybe he didn’t pity her _too_ badly. Still, she did her best to quash the feeling while the two of them crept carefully the few feet between the bedroom and the safe house’s front door. Phil paused before he opened it to step outside; Kate, meanwhile, mentally prepared herself to shoot whoever was out there. 

“Well, would you look at that,” Phil said, far too loudly in her opinion. Then, to her greater surprise, he put down his own ICEr and laughed. 

“What’s going on?” she asked. 

“Take a look for yourself.” 

She hesitated, but not for long. If Phil thought the perimeter was secure, the perimeter was secure. Continuing to clutch her weapon, Kate followed him outside and looked over at the garden, where all the commotion had been coming from. 

“Oh no!” she gasped. 

“Oh no?” Phil echoed. 

“He’s eating all our food!” 

“Well, what did you expect? There’s nothing for miles. I bet he’s as thrilled to see the makings of a salad as we are.” 

“But—But—” After all that stress, Kate found it difficult to think straight. “An _antelope_?” 

“Better an antelope than an assassin. Come on,” he gently took her hand, and Kate felt again all her mental processes grind to a halt, “another mug of a tea, and then back to bed.” 

They were inside at their tiny table before Kate found her voice again. “Do you know what would comfort me _more_ than some chamomile tea?” she asked. 

Phil looked questioningly at her. 

“Jemma’s letter.” 

As he passed over a steaming cup, he laughed again. “Nice try, Kate, but an antelope attack isn’t going to make me sympathetic enough for that.” 

She narrowed her eyes over her tea as she sipped it. For a minute—just a minute—she had thought that _maybe_ — 

No. The isolation was getting to her. That was all. Perhaps the organization after her might do her a favor and put her out of her misery before she did something truly stupid. 

******

If nothing else could be said about living off the grid, it was that it made day to day life exceptionally busy. Boredom still came in the form of repetition, but repetition filled those hours of nothing Kate would not have had back at home. There were numerous chores that needed doing, from drawing the day’s water, to checking for signs of being watched. Her downtime, as it was, was consumed with her attempts to keep their new antelope friend—whom she’d affectionately dubbed “Anthony,” much to Phil’s amusement—out of her burgeoning vegetable patch. 

The only time Phil and Kate got to sit down with each other was over dinner. Several weeks into this strangely domestic setup, she felt herself struggling less to speak to him as a fellow human being. He’d seen her sweaty, sleepless, _and_ scared. What else was left to embarrass herself with? So, one evening, long after the food was eaten and they had fallen into a comfortable silence, she wasn’t afraid to say without prompting: 

“They do have beautiful sunsets out here.” 

“They do,” Phil agreed, without moving his gaze from Kate’s face to the window she was looking out of. “I’m going to miss that.” 

“Miss it? Are we going somewhere?” 

“Eventually we’ll have to.” 

She chuckled. “Feels like we’re going to be here forever. Just how hard is it to track down Bruce? If they’re so determined, we should have heard about them flushing him out by now.” 

“It won’t be so easy. We have reason to believe Dr. Banner is not on the planet right now.” 

“ _What_?” Kate said, eyes wide. He nodded, which was _not_ an explanation. “Then why do they want _me_ so badly? _I_ can’t tell him where he’s gone. Maybe Mr. Stark could, but not _me_.” 

“You’ve worked closely with Dr. Banner in the past. If they can’t get to him for his research, you’re the next best thing. 

“Oh." 

Phil sat forward. The look on his face was not one that she could easily describe. She wasn’t sure if she had _ever_ seen him look at anyone that wasn't Daisy that way. “I won’t let them get to you.” 

“I know that. But don’t you have better things to do than babysit me? You’ve got your team and everything waiting back home.” 

“I’m sure May is handling them just fine.” They laughed together at the thought. “But I do miss the work. How about you? What do you miss the most? Outside of air conditioning and the internet.” 

Kate didn’t have to think. “My birds.” 

“Simmons is taking good care of them.” 

“I know that, too.” 

For a few minutes more, they were quiet. One by one, the stars came out, millions of them, more than Kate could have ever seen at her apartment in the city. She would miss that, too, if not as much as she missed her pets. 

“I’m going to miss this as well,” said Phil. 

“The stars?” 

“No, being here with you. I never imagined myself to be the domestic type, but this has been nice. Sort of a vacation from reality.” 

"A vacation where one or both of us might die?” Kate asked. 

“To each their own.” 

Having said that, he stood, and began to stack the plates covered in what remained of their meager meal. She rose to help him, but Phil gently swatted her hands away as she reached for an old cup. 

“Why don’t you take the first shower tonight?” he suggested. “I’ll get the dishes.” 

She didn’t know how to argue, and she _was_ ready to be somewhat clean after a long, sunburned afternoon working in the garden, so after a brief pause, she headed for the camping shower that they had set up in the back. Kate had only got as far as gathering her nightwear and towel when she heard footsteps coming after her. Phil was back, with a gleam in his eye. 

“I’ve got that letter hidden somewhere safe, by the way. You’re not going to find it by going through my clothes while I’m bathing.” 

Kate did her best to look confused. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Just a friendly reminder,” he said. Then, with a wink, he disappeared into the kitchen again. She watched him go with curiosity burning hotter inside her than ever. A communications blackout was one thing, but he was being awfully specific about a letter written before they’d even arrived. What exactly was Phil trying to hide? 

******

“Wake her up.” 

Kate heard the unfamiliar voice before she felt the sharp blow to the top of her head. _That_ woke her up for sure—and it woke her up rather annoyed when she was certain that whoever wanted her awake badly enough to strike her would much prefer that she wake up afraid. 

“That’s a better way to knock me out than wake me up,” she testily informed the dark shape closest to her. Male or female, she couldn’t tell between the lack of light and the stocking pulled over their head. 

“Keep up your yapping, and I’ll try it again,” the shape snarled. Kate decided they were definitely male. 

“Don’t you dare, Donnie,” said the first voice, this one belonging to a woman. “We haven’t been looking for Miss Kane for two months just for you to give her a head injury. If she can’t remember what we want, you’ll regret it.” 

Donnie stepped away, but Kate could still see his eyes glittering maliciously in her direction through the cuts in his mask. Her heart pounded. She struggled to sit up in the bed, then heard the distinct _snick_ of a gun’s safety being flicked off. A glint of silver in the hand of the person standing at the very end of the mattress effectively distracted Kate from doing anything more than counting the four other figures in the room. 

“Stay right where you are, Miss Kane. Boys, search the room.” 

The four people not holding a gun leaped into action. There was not much searching to be done in a room of that size and holding so few possessions, but the searchers appeared thorough. They looked under the bed, in the wardrobe, behind the door that led out into the hall they’d all come in from. Kate listened to her heart thumping in her ears, eyes transfixed on the obviously lethal weapon pointed directly at her head. Her impending death—for she knew the goons would find nothing to interest them in any of the places they were looking—was not what concerned her, however. Finally, when it seemed that the “boys” were nearly finished with their job, she allowed her eyes to flick between them. 

“Looking for your bodyguard?” the woman in charge sneered. 

“What did you do to Phil?” Kate asked in a hard voice. 

“Nothing. Yet. I’ve got Yvonne keeping him company. Might I suggest that SHIELD start equipping their so-called ‘safe houses’ with bodyguards that don’t sleep on the job? Not that doing so will do anything to help _you_.” 

“There’s nothing here, Boss,” said one of her flunkies. 

“Hm. I’m not surprised.” She sauntered forward. If she, too, was not wearing a stocking mask, Kate would have sworn the woman wore a smile as she laid herself down right up against Kate. Kate’s gulp did nothing to hide her efforts not to flinch when the stranger brushed a lock of her hair away from her face with the muzzle of the handgun. “It’s all in _here_ , isn’t it?” 

“What’s in where?” asked Kate. 

“All that research.” 

“You’re going to have to be more specific.” 

“Don’t play dumb with me, Miss Kane. It does you a disservice.” 

Fear coursed rapidly through Kate’s veins. She was not trained for this sort of confrontation. Her background was in biology, medicine, public relations. All the same, she _was_ an agent of SHIELD, and she would do Phil proud. It was highly unlikely that he really was okay, if he was not with her. This woman was lying, and if Kate wanted a chance to help Phil, she would have to draw things out. 

“I have a lot of research in my head. I need to know what kind you’re thinking of,” she said. 

A couple of the watching goons muttered darkly to each other. 

“Dr. Banner’s research, of course,” the woman answered. 

“Bruce does a lot of research. To which of his projects are you referring?” 

“His research on ridding himself of the Hulk. What _else_ would he occupy himself with?” 

In fact, much of Bruce’s research—before he had mysteriously disappeared—had been for the disaster that turned into Ultron. Kate wasn’t about to give this lot any of the information on _that_ that she had—nor anything else that Bruce might have told her in passing about his attempts to stop the Hulk. 

“Why do you want to know how to rid of the Hulk?” Kate asked. 

“We _don’t_.” 

“Then why—” 

“We already know how to _make_ a Hulk,” the woman said impatiently. “If we could turn off the _human_ part for good, just _think_ what we could do.” 

“Quite honestly, I’d rather not.” 

“That’s too bad for you. Since Dr. Banner has refused to return our calls, _you_ will be the one continuing his work for us. Load her up.” 

At this command, the unknown woman stood back up. The rest of her team surrounded the bed. Kate sat straight up before any of them could touch her, whipped her ICEr out from underneath her pillow, and leveled it right at the woman—who only looked Kate up and down with what Kate could only assume was a smirk. 

“Nice P.J.s,” she remarked. “Too bad they don’t come with all the superpowers, too. Go ahead and knock Miss Kane out now, Donnie.” 

“Don’t you lay a hand on her.” 

Several things than happened in such rapid succession that trying to describe it later made Kate’s head spin. She pulled the trigger on her ICEr and the woman—who had spun to face the new speaker—fell with a cry. As she watched, Kate felt fingers brush against her neck. Then those disappeared as Donnie hit the ground, too. Several more shots rang out. She screwed her eyes shut against the noise of it. When she opened them again a minute or so later, she was surprised to find herself unmoved and uninjured. Five bodies—unconscious, not dead, she thought—littered the threadbare rug. Only the person who had entered the room last remained upright. 

“Phil!” Kate gasped as he slumped against the door frame. Heedless of the sprawling limbs beneath her feet, she scurried over to him. He did not look good. One of his eyes was swollen shut, and there was a gash across his pale forehead dripping blood. 

“I’m fine,” he said faintly. 

“No, you are not. Come over to the bed. I need to look at that cut.” 

“I’m fine. Really. Are you?” 

“Not a scratch on me.” Kate took his wrist and pulled him firmly over to her recently vacated mattress. “You came in just in time. Now I need to find a clean towel…” 

Her turn away was halted by Phil catching her hand himself. She frowned, but could not remind him he was bleeding before he reached up with his free hand to move her hair softly away from the nice little goose egg rising where Donnie had struck her the first time. 

“Not soon enough,” Phil murmured. 

Kate felt herself turn red. The need to help him thankfully kept her mind focused on the task at hand. “It’ll go away. I just need some pain medication,” she said, trying to pull free. 

Phil, however, would not let her go. “What if I had got here just a minute later than I did?” 

“If they took me, I wouldn’t have given them what they wanted. You would have come after me anyway.” 

“Yes. I would have.” 

“See?” She smiled. “No harm, no foul. Now, I really need to get something for your forehead.” 

“No time. I need to contact May so we can get these guys into custody before they start moving again.” 

“But—” 

“I’m fine,” he said again, as he swung his feet onto the floor. 

“How are you going to—” 

“Here.” 

Blinking, she found a familiar slip of paper held right up to her nose. She took it with a small frown. 

“Just don’t think too badly of me once you’ve read it. Please,” he said. 

Then he left her there. She could hear him rummaging for something out in the sitting room, and cast a nervous look down at her previous assailants. Even knowing they’d remain out cold for some time yet, Kate didn’t want to be alone with them. Besides, it was too dark in the bedroom for her to read even the greeting at the top of the page. 

Quietly, she crept outside onto the rickety front porch. The moon above her head was full, or full enough that she could see at last what Phil had been hiding from her for so long. 

_Dear Kate,_

_What a day you have had! It will not be over for some time, I’m afraid. I am certain that Coulson will keep you safe, however. Try not to worry overmuch. You’ll be home soon. Until then, Fitz and I will make sure your birds are well looked after. You just focus on all this free time you’ll get to spend with Coulson._

_Speaking of, I did my best to pick out the outfits of yours he would like the most. Just in case! You never know just what might happen in these sorts of situations. All alone, in the middle of nowhere, with no one to talk to but the man of your dreams…Well, that’s what Daisy says happens in those stories online she used to read._

_I miss you already._

_Love,_

_Jemma_

_P.S. Coulson caught me writing this before I got it in your bag! I think I might have accidentally let it slip that you’re madly in love with him. I’m so sorry! Please don’t hate me when you get back? Look at it this way: now you don’t have any secrets to keep!_

Just as Kate’s eyes came to the end of Jemma’s horrifying postscript, she heard footsteps behind her. She whirled on the spot. It was only Phil, of course, not any of her attackers—but she was not sure anymore if that was _better_. He knew. He’d known this entire time. He would know still when they left this place, which now could not happen soon enough for her tastes. 

“So now you’re aware,” he said as he stepped into the spot beside her. 

“Now I’m aware of what?” she asked in a trembling voice. 

“That I knew from the beginning how you felt about me.” 

She opened her mouth to deny it, as she usually did, but her typical words of _“I don’t understand what you’re talking about”_ wouldn’t come. How could they? Phil knew. After everything they had been through together—not just that night, but for the past fifty-eight nights—she couldn’t lie to him. 

“I’m sorry,” Kate said instead. “I didn’t mean—” 

He took her hand, the one not clutching Jemma’s message. Inside her chest, Kate’s heart beat so rapidly that she thought she might faint. It would not be someone bent on doing her harm that caused it to happen. Just Phil, treating her with the same kindness as he always had. How mortifying—and that Jemma and May and Daisy and all the rest would soon be there to see it, too! 

“It’s okay. I feel the same way about you.” 

That first knock on the head must have really thrown her for loop. No way on earth could _Phil Coulson_ already know how Kate felt, let alone return her feelings. She was going to wake up locked in a little room miles away with nothing to look forward to save reliving the shame of this dream again and again until she could get away from the people that wanted Bruce’s research. 

“I’m real,” said Phil. 

“W-What?” 

“You’re looking at me like you don’t quite believe I’m really here. I am. Let me prove it to you.” 

That was when he kissed her. Not long. Not hard. But he kissed her, right on the mouth, and he was right: He _was_ real. The warmth of his lips against hers was evidence enough of that. Then he stepped away with a grin, and Kate found herself actually _giggling_ —though not for long before something of more importance occurred to her: 

“But…if that’s true…then why didn’t you just give me this letter?” 

“Because if you knew I knew, would you have felt comfortable here?” 

“I…suppose not,” Kate confessed. 

“Well,” he gave her hand a squeeze, “there you have it.” 

“There I—Ah!” Her gaze had fallen upon his cut once more. “We ought to get you back inside, get you patched up—” 

“No need. I got in touch with May—” At that point in the evening, Kate had had far too many shocks to feel another at the revelation Phil had indeed had a way to contact the outside world all that time“—and the whole team is on the way. I’d rather stay out here and stargaze with you one last time before they get here.” 

And so that was exactly what they did. Their long exile from the world at large was finally at an end. Kate could tell by the way that he continued to hold her hand that it did not mean their time together was at an end, though, and despite all the trouble she had gone through that night, she was smiling when everyone arrived. 

Jemma’s eyes fell right upon them the second she stepped out of the car. Thankfully she was able to keep herself together until May forced Coulson into the back of a truck to get his head looked at. Only once Phil and Kate were well apart from each other did Jemma risk broaching the subject: 

“So, you…had a good time, I take it?” 

Kate shook her head as she climbed into one of the waiting vehicles. “We’ll talk about your inability to keep secrets later. First I need a real bath and to check my e-mail.” 

“I think that can be arranged,” Jemma said, with the pleased air of someone that knew they would not really be getting a talking to at all. 

She was probably right. Kate could not even consider chastising her now. It might have been embarrassing that Phil found out she was in love with him, but it had all worked out in the end. Everything had: the letter, the blackout, the attack. The headlights cut through the oppressive night like a knife. Above the speeding cars, however, the stars remained. Kate thought she had never seen a more beautiful night even with the pounding in her head.


End file.
